Eternally Yours
by dbz-videl
Summary: reposted story A tale of vampires and slayers, of love and hate, conflict and justice, realisations and traditions, all colliding to form this story. Like it or loathe it, and read at your own risk as you find dragonballz characters placed in a completely
1. Default Chapter

**Eternally Yours**

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Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once, just for all the corporate jerks out there who may stumble upon this and think they can sue me. Well think again! Dragonball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Funimation. I take no credit for it whatsoever. I'm simply using the characters to write my own fanfic, and I'm not making any profit. So there:P Case closed. I'm done.

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A.N. Hello all. My fascination with vampires and mythical beings encouraged me to write this fic about a year ago. I only wrote about 3 chapters, before realising that research was desperately needed in order to create something with meaning and a good plot. I didn't want to write a fic with a typical plot of; so and so gets bitten and simply becomes a vampire, complete with a lemon and either a happy or average ending. I wanted this to be deep, somewhat historical, and mysterious.

No, I'm not a Goth who walks around with white face make-up, and I don't drink blood (yuck) I'm vegetarian for crying out loud! But I am fascinated by the un-explained, as well as myths and legends. Hopefully, this won't just be about vampires, I intend to include other creatures of darkness too. I'm probably kidding myself in thinking that this plot hasn't been done before, but I hope it hasn't, and I haven't read a plot like mine.

Anyway, please don't read and then flame just because you're not into this kinda thing. I have warned you, or I'm about to warn you, what this fic will include. But reviews would be nice lol. Expect blood, gore, seductiveness, language,…. the works. That's why this'll be R rated. I'm giving credit to any sites I obtained information from at the end, because without them, I'd be screwed, especially for this first chapter. So big thanks to those sites. Anyway, without further adieu, here is the first chapter of my tale.

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**Chapter 1:**

_Not much is known of the kindred to any mortal. However, there are whispers to some, of a grey mansion overlooking windswept, silent hills, where the father of all sits on his night throne accompanied by his life mate, where he rules his children. Their 'sanctuary,' their, 'home.'_

The grand cobwebbed and grim main hall of a certain desolate grey mansion was filled with creatures of the night as they waited for the important news that was destined to change their lives in one way, or another. It was so silent, that a pin could've easily been heard if it hit the concrete grey, hard and ice-cold stone floor. The bright moonlight shone through the Stained-glass, Church like windows, highlighting the youthful and beautiful faces of the kindred. To anyone mortal, these 'things' would appear to be completely human, as they resemble them so much, on the outside that is. They consisted of men and women, each as beautiful as the other. Some held candles, while others either stood or sat on the wooden table-benches. Sound only slightly strange? Well, put it this way. How many humans do you know, who fear the sunlight, but embrace the cold moon? How many possess neither reflection nor shadow? Finally, how many humans crave the taste of a mere mortal's blood, and blood alone? Not many, I'm sure, if any at all. Indeed, although they appeared to look like mortals, these creatures were far from it. They were known to mortals as 'Vampires,' non-existent creatures of myth, or so they thought. But these creatures were very real indeed. On banners that hung from the grey stone walls of the castle, were rules for the children of Kain to obey and uphold.

_The tradition of Respect:  
A childer should always honour and respect its Sire. Likewise, a younger vampire should respect the knowledge, power and authority of its elders._

_The tradition of Tribute:  
A formalization of the tradition of Respect, the master claims half a vampire's income in tribute and divides it among the vampire's elders and himself. The elders naturally approve of this, while the younger kindred sometimes mutter under their breath. Nevertheless, such is the decree of the master._

The eldest living, or should I say, _un-living_ vampire was known as the 'master,' the first ever of his kind, and the last of his kind. He was their leader, their sire, their father, and the reason for their existence. Without him, they were nothing, not even dust in the wind. For, if he were to perish, his 'children' most definitely would too, and so, they protected him with their lives. For their lives were expendable so long as his was saved.

_The tradition of Modesty:  
A vampire should take care not to create an excessive amount of childer, lest they turn against their Sire, or run away before learned in the ways of the kindred. Also, if the blood becomes too diluted, its power will diminish, and with it the power of all kindred. Herein lies a paradox of the kindred; create childer to further the power of the Master, but in moderation, lest the blood become too thin and the power of the gift wasted._

Rumoured to have been created by Lucifer himself, this demonic creation had once sired thousands to join him. However, their numbers had dwindled like a decreasing flame over the years to fewer than one hundred. A pitiful number for such a supreme race, and it was all thanks to certain mortals who dedicated their lives to diminishing these creatures from the Earth. For, though they seemed immortal, these creatures of darkness did have some weaknesses, and that, was their hearts. Indeed, though they were literally the walking dead with no souls, their hearts still remained. But did emotions also remain with their hearts? Could they feel love, hate, jealousy. Sadness? That was a question with many answers; no mortal actually knew for certain if their opinion was true. But the Kindred knew that love existed; their master loved his mate did he not? Which brings me to the reason for the large yet silent gathering.

_The tradition of Progeny:  
A vampire should, upon such a time it is learned in the ways of the kindred and its blood is stronger than a mere fledgling's, Kiss those mortals it deems worthy of the gift of blood and who are willing to receive it. The Master wishes for able servants, and so the Sire is responsible for teaching the ways of the kindred to its childer. _

Galadria, the most beautiful of female vampires, had graced the halls of the Sanctuary mansion for several centuries. She was the first sire of the master, his life long mate. None could compare to her beauty and elegance. Her long, thick hair, that has once been a rich yet dark brown in her youthful days, but had turned a magnificent black over the years, glistened with silver streaks in her prime, as it now fell to a long length at her full hips and back. The good bone structure of her heart shaped face gave her well-chiselled cheekbones, which her plump red lips merely complimented further. Her nose fit perfectly and in proportion to the rest of her face, the slim bridge slightly forming into a delicate point at the tip, where her thin slits of nostrils were. Now, vampires were known to enchant their victims with their eyes before feeding, which meant that eyes were the ultimate beauty to a vampire. Galadria's were no exception. She had once possessed blue-green eyes of a light tone, which merely accentuated her hair colour and eye's shaped like a cats. However, after being sired and turned, they began to change. No longer the mirrors to her soul, since being dead she no longer possessed a soul, they transformed into pools of the lightest blue, almost grey, so much that their icy hue froze her victims within seconds. She really was the perfect match for the handsome and youthful master, both remaining to resemble not a day older than thirty at the most, and that was pushing it even.

_The kindred walk among you, unseen, unheard. They desire nothing from you other than your blood. Beware, lest they curse you with the gift of blood, for then you shall become as one of them, and prey upon the living._

Though Galadria loved all of her children, since she was known as the 'mother,' she had her favourites of course. Compared to the other vampires, these were like a 'super' breed, exceptionally special in the way that they were bred. For, these children were not sired. They were her real children, the offspring of the Master and the Mother. The Master had an obligation when choosing his mate. He had to choose one who possessed inner and outer strength, one who's blood was of the purest, and one whom was innocent, having been touched by no man but him. The result of such high class breeding led to a higher standard of vampires; their senses heightened, their intelligence levels outstanding, and the strength, simply incredible. Unfortunately, though one would think that these offspring would be indestructible, one certain 'slayer' had found a way. He was a traitor, both feared and hated by all creatures of the night. Any who even dared to utter his name would be punished, and so, my own lips will remain sealed, for now. Rumours were that he was a sired vampire, whose mortal mother had been bitten whilst she was in her early stages of pregnancy. The result had been the creation of a powerful vampire, possessing some of the vampire traits, yet being a mortal at the same time. Galadria had attempted on several occasions to persuade him to join the Kindred. But he had chosen a mortal mate, and it had resulted in him being labelled an outcast, a freak for possessing such strong feelings and emotions. Envied, in some cases, for seeing daylight and moonlight, for being able to see his reflection, and create a shadow. He truly was remarkable, and yet, a disgrace at the same time. He had no love for his race, and therefore spent his life eradicating as many vampires from the world as possible. They were evil in his eyes, a threat to the mortals that he loved, the mortals that he swore to protect. It would make any vampire hiss in disgust.

None of the Master's true offspring remained thanks to the Slayer, and Galadria had been determined to reproduce another army of super breeds. After an agonising year, she had finally conceived, and the baby had grown inside her over the nine months, which brings me to the day in which I speak of now. The birth of the next generation of children. Usually, this would've been a day of celebration for all Vampires. However, there had been slight, complications. Past the main hall of the gloomy mansion where the Kindred had gathered, was a spiral of stone steps that led to the chambers of the Master and his mate. A female scream of pain ripped through the silent air, echoing through the halls and reaching the kindred below. They covered their ears and exchanged glances with one another; the situation didn't sound too good.

The master held his mate's hand as she panted for air, her normally pale skin whiter than ever, and her lips a pale blue shade. Her life force was being drained from her, but she continued, determined to give birth to the child, which she had carried for so long. It was her pride, her joy, her gift to the Master and the Kindred. She wasn't about to give up that easily. A vampire skilled in medicine and biology, since he had been a doctor in his mortal life, shook his head negatively as he stood at the foot of the bed. He exchanged glances with a female vampire who was the nurse and his assistant. The Master saw it all, and frowned with both anger and concern.

"Care to let me in on your little conversation? My mate is in pain here, and you waste our time exchanging glances!" Galadria moaned and sucked in a deep intake of breath, alarming the Master as he squeezed her hand even tighter. I'm here, he told her, using the mind connection they had formed through their precious bond.

"She cannot go on your grace, the birth will undoubtedly kill her." Galadria suddenly opened her eyes wide, arched eyebrows rising as she heard the news that she already knew. "She's losing too much blood. We must stop this at once, or she must drink from a mortal."

"NO! I….I MUST go on! I won't let my, our, child, die!" She placed a hand on her large stomach; sweat pouring down her face, neck, and large chest. Her mate ran the back of his hand down her cheek affectionately; assuring her that he was still with her. Galadria had declined the many offers to drink from a mortal and rekindle her own blood supply. She wanted her birth to be natural and pure, without the mixing of a mortal's blood in her system.

"Darling, it doesn't have to be this way. I-"

"No!" She interrupted him with her stubborn and harsh tone, closing her eyes as more pain shot through her. "I am going to have this child!" She suddenly cried out and tried to push once again, before panting for breath. A head began to appear, and the doctor kneeled down at the foot of the grand bed, ready to help with the labour that had already lasted over 3hours. The nurse eased the mother, trying to help her with the breathing whilst wiping the endless amounts of perspiration from her brow.

"Ok, we have a head. I need you to push again my lady." She strained herself as she pushed again, the muscles in her neck and shoulders tensing up as she clamped her teeth together and squeezed her mate's hand. The head eased out a little more, but so did more and more blood. The doctor knew for certain that only a miracle would save the mother.

"Just a little more, you're doing very well." The Master looked lovingly into his mate's eyes, remembering the first time that he'd laid his own eyes on her. She had been his Eve, and he, the serpent, had stolen her from her Adam. The result had changed both of their lives dramatically. She had been the servant girl to an ancient Pharaoh, and the daughter of a rich merchant. The Master had wooed her, courted her, and then welcomed her to his world, which she welcomed gratefully. No one would expect them to be the cause of so many deaths in the times of famine and disease. It was paradise, and they had sired many childers from that day forth, who were now the elders of the kindred. He was so proud of her tough spirit and love of living her new life to the fullest. If he lost her, he'd be nothing. His broken heart would decay and rot in his depression, making him unfit to lead his children. That would be his downfall.

_The tradition of Challenges:  
To prevent chaotic diablerie among the kindred, a formalized challenging system has arisen. The challenger goes to the Master and challenges the offender, and if he agrees to a duel, it will take place as soon as the offender accepts the challenge, and will end with only one survivor._

Galadria once again cried out, gasping for more air to fill her tired and empty lungs. She was weakening every second, realisation dawning on her. But she had chosen her own path, and now, she had to succeed, it was her obligation and her last wish. If she was to go, then she wanted to leave something for her mate to remember her by. It was the best gift that she could give to him, knowing that he had wanted another child for so long.

"Galadria? Darling?" She opened her heavy eyes and moaned, her focus clearing so that she could see her mate's handsome face close to her own. She'd fallen in love the moment she'd let eyes on him. He had the figure of a God, resembling the many statues and drawings of Re, Amun-Re, and Horus. Galadria resembled Isis, known in Egypt as the Goddess who resembled the perfect mother. The Master was Osiris, Isis' husband and God of the afterlife and father to Horus, the name she had given to her second born. Her mate hadn't changed since the day they'd first met. He'd posed as a Roman warrior, complete with rippling muscles, yet not overly built. He's swept her off her feet, not caring about the fact that she was a mere servant girl. By the seventh day, he'd killed her, and she'd re-awakened as she was today, a vampire and his mate. She had never been so happy, and never would be so happy again.

"Galadria, can you hear me?" She saw him frown, something she revelled in since he looked adorable when he frowned in such a gentle, caring way. Who said vampires where heartless? She certainly wasn't, and neither was he.

"Yes, my love?" He sighed with relief and nodded to the doctor, who had been talking to her, but she hadn't responded.

"Just one more push, that's all we ask."

But that was one push that she didn't think she could do. She swallowed hard and nodded, feeling him squeeze her hand tightly as she gathered some strength.

"After 3?" An encouraging smile tugged at the corners of his thin, masculine lips, and she managed to smile, nodding slightly.

"One, two,….three!" She put all her strength into the final push, lifting her head up and squeezing her mate's hand as her face flushed red. Her head fell back onto the soft pillow and she gasped for air as a scream ripped through the tense room, crying out as the new life breathed in air for the first time. The Master exhaled a short breath, his eyes wide under neat, risen eyebrows. There stood the doctor, holding his child his, creation. Galadria fought hard to open her eyes, trying to save the little strength that she had left. She had to see her child; she just had to, even if it was just for one fraction of a second.

"Congratulations my lady, you have a healthy baby girl." The chubby nurse smiled and carried the baby over once the umbilical cord had been cut. She was still crying loudly, but as soon as her mothers arms encircled her, her cries died down, and she stared up with the bluest, most enchanting eyes. Galadria gasped with joy and relief. She'd done it, she'd bought yet another life into the world, and this one would live! She was sure of it. Her mate kissed her forehead, before lingering on her lips and finally looking down at his daughter. The baby stared at her father, blue eyes meeting black. She resembled her mother mostly, complete with curious, large eyes. But, for now, she had inherited her father's jet-black hair. Who could tell what else she had inherited, until she'd grown up of course. The Master was determined not to let his daughter perish like the rest of his children. She would grow into a beautiful vampire, and he would be proud. No mortal would lay a hand on her, or he would personally punish them until they begged him for death, to be released from the pain and torture he would make them suffer. Yes, his daughter was precious, as precious as his mate. With a nod from the Master, the nurse and doctor left, waiting outside until they were needed next. The Master smiled and cupped his mate's chin in his palm, bringing his lips close to hers.

"I love you Galadria, always have, and always will." He kissed her passionately once more, always loving the feeling of her soft lips pressed against his, the way her tongue would casually glide against the tip of his lower lip. She smiled as his lips eventually lifted from hers, he didn't want to suck her energy from her afterall.

"You talk like…. I'm about to die." He smiled in spite of himself; she always had been satirical, even now on her deathbed, a bed that had once been their marital bed.

"Valvador, I," she paused to inhale, an action which was becoming more and more difficult with her raspy breaths. Only she was permitted to call him by his name, which others would not dare to even whisper.

"I want you to….to take _good_ care…of…our daughter, our, Videl. And, I….I love you so much darling, with…all...my heart." The words rolled off her tongue and escaped her lips in quiet mutters, barely audible by her mate. He frowned slightly at her words, and looked at the sleeping babe who Galadria held close to her.

"Videl?" Galadria nodded, barely, and the Master smiled, lifting his daughter's tiny hand into his own, the little devil, he could already tell that she was going to be mischievous, especially if she took after her mother. "I won't let her out of my sight. That, I promise to you, my love."

Galadria managed a sweet smile and gazed lovingly at her mate, before inhaling her last breath as her heart finally gave in. No more pain, her voice ringed through his mind as her chest lowered and remained still. She exhaled for the last time in her lifetime, and the Master, Valvador, felt a twinge at his own heart as her eyes stared mindlessly ahead.

"NO! No, Galadria, _please_, don't give up! _Not yet_! You can't leave me, I-"

He stopped himself from shaking her shoulders to try to revive her for just a second, just to say goodbye one last time. Instead, he brushed his palm over her eyelids, closing them over her staring blank and lifeless eyes, and then sunk back into his velvet-cushioned chair, lowering his head into his hands. It was too late, and Valvador fought hard to remain sane. He tried hard to not completely break down from the trauma that he was feeling, how would the kindred react to that? He would be shunned, declared as weak, and mocked. No, he had to remain sane, even though his heart beat hard against his chest as the reality of the situation dawned on him, his body shaking. She was gone, for good and forever, and there was no way he could ever revive her. He was all alone, no mate, and no life.

Videl started to cry once more, reminding her father that she was still breathing, and was very much real. Valvador lifted her into his own loving arms, looking down at her with gentle eyes until she calmed down and closed her eyelids. This was all he had left of Galadria, and so, Videl was special. He would look after her, just like he'd promised. As he shifted his eyes from the sleeping babe to his mate, his love, his life, a single tear fell from his eye. It was rumoured that vampires only ever cried tears of blood, and that was true in some cases. But this tear was different. It was clear, and made of a salt-water liquid. Valvador felt it tickle his skin as it travelled down his cheek, and fall off his broad chin. He continued to stare at his deceased mate, and the single tear fell onto his daughter, landing on her forehead like a baptismal gesture. It was a blessing, a mysterious and unknown gift given to her and her alone. For, that tear, was the sign of pure, true love, something that many never experienced, or failed to experience, especially vampires and creatures of the night. But from that day forth, the last child of Valvador and Galadria was miraculously blessed with the gift to feel the purest of love, even though she possessed no true soul.


	2. Chapter 2

**Eternally Yours**

A.N. Yay a review! Haha, thankyou Aragorn dude. This is a pre-written chapter again, just a little modified from last time. I hope I get some more readers though o.o Well, patience is a virtue I guess . Not much else to say so…enjoy!

"….." speech

'…..' thoughts

**Chapter 2:**

"VIIIIDEEEEEL!"

A young, blue haired vampire stormed through the dark, shadowed halls of the sanctuary castle, heavy footsteps padding across the stone floors. Candles flickered as she passed, eerie shadows wavering to and fro on the gloomy and grey stonewalls. It was all the perfect imagery for her mood; extreme frustration and agitation.

'Ugh, I really don't need this right now. Why the hell do I bother? Dratted child! Why do I have to be so trusted by the master to babysit? I guess the good thing is that I get loads of items for my projects. But I won't be getting anything for a lost child…Dammit, she's gotta be somewhere!'

"VIDEL! WHERE THE _HELL_ ARE YOU?"

The young, five year old girl in question sat alone in the exact centre of a dimly lit, messy and unorganised room. The floor was a dusty and dirty, black marble in desperate need of a sweep and scrub. It was a perfectly square shaped room that resembled an antique store. Infact, the whole castle was like a museum; filled with ancient artefacts and collectors items from the years gone by.

The girl had raven black, wavy hair that fell to her shoulders, just about. She would've resembled a cherubin, but was far from angelically holy, although she did wear an old fashioned white dress complete with frilly petticoats, ribbons, and bows, and her mind was still innocent and naïve as she learned the ways of her kind. However, the knee length dress revealed the fact that she wore no shoes, and preferred to go bare-footed; a wild child of nature. Her astonishing rich but light blue-lilac eyes were fixed on a single painting that hung above the black, unlit, Victorian fireplace. The 8 by 8 foot painting depicted the image of a young and beautiful woman in the centre. The background was a section of the grand castle gardens, and she held in her arms a baby wrapped in white cloths. Several small children crowded around her, clutching onto her thigh and the long, deep red, Egyptian style dress that she wore. A proud smile completed her perfectly heart shaped but very pale face, and her black and silver-grey hair flowed behind her like a waterfall, cascading over her shoulders. She was the mother of all vampires, the mate of the Master, and the young girl's true, biological mother.

"VIDEL!"

The voice of the girl's current babysitter was getting closer and therefore louder, and the young girl curled up into a ball on the circular, white, fluffy rug in the centre of the room. She came to the room very often, simply to gaze in peaceful solitude at the mother that she didn't know and never really would, in person at least. The room was located in the quiet, forth floor eastern wing in the castle. Cobwebs and dust accumulated on literally every object in the room, from the red velvet chairs in the corner, to the Greek statues of ancient Gods, Goddesses, and mythical beings. A large, purple coloured spider spun its' web on the jail like, metal bared window, adding to the already cloudy and dusty stained glass. The moonlight barely managed to shine through, adding a bleak and cold atmosphere to the room. It shone directly onto the middle of the room, highlighting the sad and cold features of the child. She blinked, a single crystal clear tear falling down her cheek as her focus remained on the portrait.

"Just a little longer," she murmured, hoping her minder could hear her in advance. She wanted to be with her mother, and this was the closest she could get to that wish. But she longed for her mother's gentle and warm touch of reassurance and love, something no other person could ever give her. The 'last child' had managed to block out the constant shrieks and constant calls from her minder, but her ears suddenly pricked as she heard the pitter patter of footsteps echoing down the corridor. Within moments, the heavy door opened with an audible eerie creek, followed by the clicks of heels on the marble floor.

"Videl, _finally_! I've been looking for you _everywhere_ sweetie. You know you're not meant to be in here, how many times do I-"

"But, daddy let's me go where I please Bulma." No one could or would deny that the girl was slightly spoilt, and spoke her mind very easily. She was a well-mannered girl, with etiquette and a well-spoken voice, even in her youth. Bulma sighed with impatience and exhaustion from her long search for the girl.

"But if he knew you came here, then I'm sure he'd be upset. Besides, you shouldn't just go running off! This place is so big, it takes me ages to find you." Yet Videl remained curled up in a ball, not even looking at Bulma, who walked further into the room. It made her appear ignorant and stubborn, but also, apologetic.

"I'm sorry."

Bulma sighly lightly, and Videl finally turned her head to see her minder kneeling beside her. A smile teased the corners of her mouth and she lifted herself into a sitting position, the traces of tears glistening under the moon's rays. Bulma's eyebrows twitched together, and she wiped away the dry tears using the pads of her fingers. It was very unusual for a vampire to cry, especially real tears, but Videl was no ordinary vampire.

"You shouldn't do this to yourself Videl. Everytime you come here, you end up crying." Her voice was soft, almost mothering, with a hint of her stern nature.

"I can't help it, I just, cry. Bulma, did you know my mother?" The older vampire sighed and got to her feet, helping Videl up too as she offered her hand to her.

"Videl, you've asked me that question over and over!" The young girl frowned and pouted, looking up at Bulma, who smiled and rolled her dark blue-green eyes. "Your mother graced our home for many years, before I was even born and sired. I had the honour of meeting her not long after I myself was sired by one of her sons. She truly was a mother to all of the kindred; caring, loving, protective, but also stern, stubborn, and harsh. Her death vanquished the existence of emotions. Love, in particular. It is a sorry state and loss, to _all_ of the Kindred."

Videl stared at Bulma as she spoke, trying to understand as best she could. She was intelligent for her five years of age, and was a keen and attentive listener, even if she didn't always understand very well. She was the type of child who would go away and ponder, to at least try to comprehend to the best of her abilities.

"Anyway, how about we go check on your dad?" Videl nodded enthusiastically, bringing a smile to Bulma's face. She'd always wanted a child of her own, and she had to admit, she did care very much for Galadria's last daughter.

In the large, main hall of the castle, a meeting of vampires had gathered in order to discuss certain important issues. The master sat at the head of the table on his black throne, the frame entwined with black, metal thorns. The loss of his mate five years ago had transformed him into a frail and weak vampire. His rugged, handsome and youthful looks had become even paler and, sad to say, not so attractive and youthful. His incredibly handsome square shaped face had become drawn and thin. Several lines on his brow and at the corner and bottom of his eyes gave the appearance of ageing, with the addition of blackened shadows under his sharp cheekbones and piercing, red and black eyes. Around the large mahogany table sat nine elders, and the strongest nine members of the elite kindred. They were engaged in the heat of a dispute, one of many infact, and Valvador's anger was at an evident boiling point.

"Your grace."

Valvador snarled at the stubborn owner of the irritating voice. The elders hadn't, for some strange and unknown reason, inherited the Master's youthful appearance. Perhaps it was due to the fact that they only drank from the wisest of mortals, who were usually the eldest. And so, the elders resembled old, frail men, who became even older and frailer as the years passed. The term; 'living dead,' really did apply to this type of vampire. However, even so, they were respected and held in great esteem by the kindred, since they were so wise and learned from the experiences of their long lives. Such respect also gave them high egos, and so, they were possibly the only vampires who had the courage to question the Master's decisions, and influence a change. Now, this particular frail and ugly elder had contradicted the master too much that evening, only because he had the power to cross the line that many others could not.

"What have you to say now Jeremiah?" The Master's voice was tired and strained, and all eyes turned to the frail elder who coughed before he spoke. An eruption of painful dryness echoed through the room as he did so.

"I must once again argue against your decision Master. If, I may be so bold, I believe that this 'war' is the key!" Valvador rested his chin on his palm in boredom.

"Oh? Go on."

"If we make allies, then our forces will be much stronger!"

"Hmph!"

All eyes turned to the strongest vampire, who leaned against a stone pillar casually with his muscular arms folded over his broad chest. He'd refused to sit at the table, preferring to observe and listen amongst the shadows, and interrupt the dispute as he saw fit, like now.

"And I suppose you're suggesting that we make more enemies too by doing so? What a pathetic idea!" Several gasps escaped from the wrinkled mouths of the elders, while the other warriors nodded in agreement.

"I say we ignore the fools and continue with our original plans. If they want to play childish war games, then leave them to it! We shall be supreme in the end, mark my word on it. And they shall bow to US!"

His voice was extremely masculine, husky and deep, fitting his stubborn attitude and rebel appearance perfectly. For, this vampire was no ordinary vampire. He was the master's proud grandson and the son of Caine; the very first son of Valvador and Galadria. His mother, Calliope, had been a respectably high-bred vampire of the purest of blood. Therefore, the child of Caine and Calliope was of some of the purest Vampire blood, making him very strong since he had no mortal blood to violate his bloodline.

"Ah, Vegeta, my ever proud grandson, never afraid to voice his strong opinions. I must say that I agree with you, for once." That was an understatement though, for everyone knew Vegeta was favoured highly by his grandfather.

"Well, well, what can I say? I really am a genius. It seems we no longer have use for these so-called 'elders.' Who needs wisdom when we have brute strength? Our Kindred is feared!"

Several astonished gasps echoed across the dimly lit hall as the insulted elders muttered amongst themselves in total disagreement.

"Objection!"

The eldest of the elders stood to his feet and banged his pale fist on the wooden table, shaking it slightly. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the challenge, and smirked with further mockery.

"I am appalled by such comments! Never in my lifetime has a member of the kindred disrespected an elder! It's blasphemous, treacherous, punishable by DEATH!"

"Calm yourself Aesir, we are all grown and mature vampires here. Let us not let petty words harm us. How does that famous phrase go again? Sticks and stones may break our bones, but names shall never harm us? Indeed, I would've thought _you_ of all people would've abided by that."

The calmness of Valvador's words seemed to somewhat calm everyone down, and put the elders back in their place. Aesir hesitantly returned to his seat, his wrinkled and ugly face slightly softened as he realised that Valvador was and always would be the wisest with words. Vegeta, however, kept his cocky as hell smirk, staring straight at the high elder.

"Your grace. _Please_, I beg of you." The word 'beg' made Vegeta cringe; how dare the elders stoop so low, it was pathetic. "Think about your decision again! Think about how it will affect the kindred!" Vegeta rolled his eyes and yawned audibly, bored with the persistence of Aesir.

"I have, and my decision remains unchanged." The elders once again mumbled amongst themselves in disapproval at the master's firm words, watched by the many warriors who nodded smugly, clearly approving. The council was evidently split between youth and strength, versus age and brains.

"You are defeated Aesir, just accept it." The high elder snarled at Vegeta, baring his pathetic, blood stained and yellow, decaying fangs. Vegeta chuckled at the challenging gesture, showing the immaculate sharp white tips of his own perfect fangs as he grinned.

"Watch your mouth fledgling! I am generations older than you, and so the decree demands that you show me respect!"

"You're still living in the time of fairies and dragons old fool! Welcome to the future," he gestured the time period by opening out his arms, chuckling slightly in a malevolent manner. "I just know you'll _love_ it!"

Several elites laughed out loud with mockery as the elder reclined from the argument, turning malicious, white-grey eyes on the Master, who had done nothing to stop the argument. Aesir despised sarcasm, and he also despised the arrogant attitudes of the youths.

"I respect that your decision is final Master, and I have argued against it as best I can. The fate of us all lies in your hands, please, make the right decision for all of our sakes. Do not listen to the reckless words of the youth! They are blinded by their own naiveness and desire for power. But, we shall take our leave. Your grace," he bowed his head, a gesture that the other elders did in turn as they left the table and the room. The metal chairs scratched against the stone floor, adding to the awkward silence of the strange atmosphere.

"Good riddance I say." The comment came from Nappa, a blood-craving demon who had formed an allegiance with the Kindred, since he had been a lone demon. Vegeta smirked with a nod of agreement and sat on Aesir's chair, swinging his feet clad in clumpy and heavy, black, leather, combat boots onto the table in one swift yet graceful movement.

"So, am I correct in saying that your decision remains unchanged?"

Valvador raised an eyebrow at his assuming grandson and smirked; he resembled Caine too much sometimes. He shuddered at the thought of his first born, the son that still haunted him. Caine was very different to the other vampires. The memories sickened Valvador, and he turned away from his grandson, who had luckily inherited his father's youthful and ruggedly handsome looks. Valvador and Galadria had been blessed with twins, whom they named Caine and Abel after the Biblical twins, finding it ironic that they were the first vampires born of vampires. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the only thing that was ironic. Whether it was a punishment from God, or simple fate. As the twins grew up, it became apparent that while Abel was good-natured, Caine was pure evil. He was a killer, but he didn't kill out of necessity for food, nor even for sport. Caine killed for pleasure. Jealousy soon developed between the twins, since Abel was clearly favoured over his brother. What Caine did to his brother out of this jealous rage cursed him for the remainder of his life.

"Master, are you alright?"

Valvador blinked several times and returned to reality, the faces of nine worried warriors welcoming him back. He turned to Rhea, the young vampire who had enquired after his health, and nodded.

"I was lost in thought. I want to be alone while I re-think my decision." The elites exchanged glances with each other and eight of them left the room, leaving the son of a particular bad memory behind. A scowl of worry completed his face, and he folded his arms, a gesture often displayed by the strong vampire.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts old man?"

"So disrespectful Vegeta, just like your father. Why am I not surprised?" Vegeta cursed at Valvador's words and pounded his fist on the table; a loud bang echoing through the empty hall.

"HOW DARE YOU MENTION MY SO CALLED FATHER!"

"Learn some respect, and maybe I won't." Vegeta snarled, a deep beastial like growl echoing in the pits of his throat while Valvador remained calm and recollected.

"You wouldn't be so 'cool' if I attacked your weakness,_ master_." He turned his back on his grandfather, emphasising his last word. Valvador's eyebrows twitched together and his eyes narrowed slightly from the verbal challenge.

"Watch where you tread Vegeta. You may be part of my blood, but so is every other vampire on this God forsaken Earth! I will not hesitate to disown you from the Kindred."

"The only reason I'll leave, will be of my own accord. You _need_ me here Master, we both know that. Choose wisely now. I may not want to support your final decision afterall." He violently pushed open the large, wooden doors that creaked slightly, and let them slam behind him in his rage. Valvador sunk back onto his throne, resting his head in his hands. Why did life have to be so difficult? He was doing his best to look after his children, but without his mate, he was weak. The Kindred needed a mother and a father, not one or the other. Without both, the rebellious members of the kindred were able to rise above their Master, causing chaos and unruliness amongst the rest of the Kindred. It was only a matter of time until his kindred would be falling under the 20s mark. A pitiful number for an ever-decreasing race of cursed people.

Just as Bulma and Videl stepped down the last steps of the main, grand staircase, the main hall doors swung open, and Vegeta stormed into the entrance hall, littered with stray leaves from the main door.

"Veggie!"

The son of Caine raised an eyebrow as his 'aunt' ran towards him; calling him by the nickname she'd given him against his wishes.

"How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to call me that name brat?" Bulma winced at the tone of his naturally harsh voice, which was much colder that usual today, and very aggravated as he snapped at his aunt. Videl stopped dead in her tracks, and her outstretched arms that were begging for a hug dropped to her sides accompanied with a cute little pout. Bulma's eyebrows twitched together, and she stormed towards the cold-hearted vampire, her sire and her mate.

"Vegeta have a heart dammit! Just because you've had a bad day, that doesn't mean you can take it out on Videl!" He rolled his eyes and watched as the girl, his 'aunt,' stuck her nose in the air and proceeded towards the main hall. Their age difference made him more like her uncle, and she was more like his niece.

"Bah! She'll get over it." Bulma narrowed her eyes and shook her head, flinching as Videl slammed the main doors behind her. "Where the hell have you been anyway?"

He casually walked closer to his mate, a scowl still on his face from the previous argument with the Master.

"Babysitting the 'brat,' as you so nicely put it. I hope you don't talk to our kids like that." His expression changed, and she once again began to regret the mention of children. Raising a child was one of Vegeta's main fears. Why, Bulma didn't quite know. She thought he'd make a wonderful father, if he made an effort.

"Well, as I've said countless times, we won't be having any 'kids' for me to call brat, so you have nothing to worry about woman."

He brushed past her and up the red-carpeted stairs, skipping a step each time to make his journey shorter. Bulma sighed and lowered her eyesight, slightly regretting falling in love with the monster. She'd been a mortal when she'd met him, in a bar where she worked for extra money, to be exact. He'd stolen her heart through his 'bad boy' charm and wit. His impeccably good looks and stunning physique had made him simply irresistible. He'd been perfect, until that fateful day when she gave him her innocence, and in return, he gave her immortal life. Now, she was cursed forever. But lately, she'd been asking herself the same question over and over: Was it all really worth it? Was 'love' worthy of such a sacrifice? Did she truly love him, or had it just been yet another foolish, teenage crush? Did he love her in return? Had he _ever_ loved her, or had it been simply lust for her body and her blood? The thought of such questions simply made her even more depressed with life.

The Master heard the door slam once again, but refused to look up._ 'Angel of death, relieve me from this life! Save me. Please. Is that too much to ask?'_

"DADDIEEEEE!"

Valvador immediately lifted his head from his palms and chuckled as he saw a young energetic girl running towards him from the door. She was the only reason that he stayed alive, and seeing her smiling face brought a smile to his own face. She was his daughter, the last child of Galadria. To him, she was precious, and if he didn't have her, he truly would've gone crazy by now.

Videl ran until she reached her father, who lifted her onto his lap and embraced her, pressing his cold lips against her forehead as he did so.

"I missed you daddy! Why'd you take so long?" He smiled, glad to hear her angelic voice and hold her in his arms once more. They'd been separated for two days, since Valvador had had matters to take care of in the form of a slayer.

"I'm sorry pumpkin, things were, worse, than they seemed." She tilted her head up to look up at him, searching his cold, black eyes that had a thin line of red around the outside of the iris. He looked mentally drained and physically exhausted, which worried Videl. Another thing that worried her was the fact that she could faintly smell her father's blood. Videl frowned and began to unbutton his long black overcoat with her small yet diligent fingers. His white shirt was soaked in dried blood, his blood, and she frowned as she looked into his eyes, resting a concerned hand above the wound.

"Daddy, they hurt you!"

He smiled and placed his hand over hers, which was extremely close to his heart. Valvador had been careless, and the slayer had missed his aching heart by a few mere inches. He still had the wound as proof of his recklessness and stupidity. Never again would he allow such an amateur mistake to happen. He smiled as he shook his head, trying to reassure her that he was ok, even though the wound still burnt and stung thanks to a stake drenched in the holiest of water.

"It's nothing pumpkin, daddy's fine." She pouted and frowned, obviously not believing him, but he quickly changed the subject to something lighter. " Now, what have you been up to? I hope you weren't causing trouble like last time."

"Me? Cause twouble?" They both chuckled and she began to fiddle with a button that was coming loose on his shirt; hanging from a thin piece of black thread. Giving in to temptation, she suddenly yanked it off mischievously and placed it in the pocket of her white old-fashioned dress, complete with petticoats and pink ribbons. "Tee hee, you're missing a button!"

Valvador raised a single eyebrow. He'd seen her take the button, but he still played along with the game, and gasped in fake shock as he looked at his shirt.

"So I am. I wonder where that went?"

"I wonder…." She trailed off, grinning cheekily.

"Well, maybe I'll give a reward to whoever finds it." Her eyes lit up, and she immediately took the button out of her pocket, holding it up infront of him.

"Found it!" He chuckled and closed her hands over hers, placing his own on top.

"And so, you can keep it." He removed his hands, and she frowned as she opened her hand to look at the plain, black button.

"But it's just a button daddy, where's my real reward?" He smiled at her, memories starting to be recalled of his happier, youthful days. She was so naïve, and had much to learn, so much for him to teach her. Her life had still only just begun.

"But simple can lead to something more. You see, your mother used to collect rare things, even buttons. That button, is one of the millions which she collected and sewed onto various items of clothing." Videl gazed at the button with a newly found fascination, and placed it into her pocket once again, a saddened expression on her face as she lifted her head.

"Tell me about my mommy. Was she pretty?" Valvador sighed, but smiled to hide his sadness at the mention of Galadria for the umpteenth time. Videl was always asking the same questions, since she was so curious about her mother.

"She was the most beautiful woman to grace the Earth."

"Do I look like her?"

"Of course you do. I'm certain you'll grow up to be just like her."

"I hope so." Videl sighed and rested her head on her father's chest, missing the mother she'd only known for a few seconds as a baby. A silence fell upon them as they both became lost within their own thoughts. Videl rested her head on her father's chest as she desperately tried to remember her mother. However the only image left was the painting in the old, cobwebbed room. As she fell into a peaceful slumber, Valvador pondered over his discussion from earlier. The question was; should he trust the elders, whom he'd trusted all his life. Or, should he trust Vegeta, the first son of Caine. He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his back against his cushioned throne. His heart told his to give his grandson a chance, but if he was wrong, the consequences could be severe. However, Galadria had told him to always follow his heart, and so, that was what he was prepared to do.


End file.
